


The NCIS Alphabet

by LeonoraChris



Series: One Shot Collections [2]
Category: NCIS
Genre: Agent Afloat, Alternate Ending, Alternate Universe, Angst, Arranged Marriage, Betrayal, Birds, Birthday, Bittersweet, Drowning, Family, Father-Daughter Relationship, Father-Son Relationship, First Meetings, Fix-It, Fluff, Funerals, Gen, Humor, Hurt, Infected, Inheritance, Kid Fic, Loneliness, Muteness, Parent Tony, Post-Series, Pre-Series, Requiem, Restraining order, Secret Missions, Secrets, Self-Reflection, Time - Freeform, Tony Leaving, Tony's Network, Tragedy, What-If, cannibals, chimera, mobster, teenager Tony
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-16
Updated: 2018-01-22
Packaged: 2018-07-15 11:17:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 15,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7220212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeonoraChris/pseuds/LeonoraChris
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Collection of different NCIS one shots according to the alphabet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Ants

**Author's Note:**

>   
>  _The story and any possible original characters are mine.  
>  NCIS, its own characters and canon aren't._

The hot summer heat hit his face almost as soon as he stepped outside and immediately worry set in. Without a second thought, Gibbs rushed back indoors, grabbed the small hat hanging from the hook by the front door and ran back outside. He let out audible sight of relief when he found his son kneeling next to the fence and relatively alright, albeit there was a slight flush on the little boy's cheeks.

Crouching down next to the child, he carefully put the hat over the soft hair lightened by the sun. "What are you doing, buddy?"

Tony looked forlorn. "I stepped on one of the anties," he whispered and his lower lip started to wobble. "Now it's d-dead." His breath hitched as he pointed at something on the ground only vaguely resembling the ant it used to be. Long trail of other ants kept moving as they always do. While they watched, the ants carried their dead away.

"Anties, huh?" Gibbs had to bite his tongue to not show his amusement. It helped when he saw his child close to start sobbing his little heart out. His _big_ little heart. "I'm sure you didn't mean to. It was an accident and we all have stepped on 'anties'," Gibbs had to swallow down his amusement again, "and that's just the way things are."

"I don't like it..."

Gibbs took the small boy into his arms and started walking away. Ants or 'anties', he didn't want to keep his boy thinking about something that broke his heart. Of course it was going to happen sooner or later anyway, that's just life, but as long as Gibbs could prolong such moments, he would do it. "I'm afraid that's a hard lesson you are going to learn as you grow older. Life is unfair like that and bad things happen and we just need to learn from those things and move on."

"Daddy..."

"Yeah, buddy?" Gibbs felt his heart swell each and every time he was called 'daddy'. He already feared that moment when his little boy would decide that he was 'too old' to call his dad 'daddy'. Well, better enjoy it while he still could. So if he now held his son a little tighter in his arms, he hoped the boy wouldn't mind as he sometimes started squirming to get down so he could walk, or run, on his own two little feet. It was quite impressive just how much energy there was packed in such a small little thing.

"Do anties get to go to heaven?"

"Uh..."

**_The End_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alternate universe


	2. Betrothed

"I have a what now?" Tony asked weakly, while his right hand was searching for the wall behind his back. Finding it, he leaned heavily against it. "That's the old ways and I'm hardly fit for some—"

"Anthony," his lawyer—slash advisor slash traitor—spoke patiently, "this was decided long before you were even born. Unfortunately there wasn't any suitable females born until later."

"You mean that I don't get a say what I do with my own life now? Again."

The man shook his head. "Of course you do, but don't dismiss this before even meeting her. When it's done, once you've married her, you will receive your inheritance and since your cousin is childless, you and your children will be next in line for the title."

Tony visibly flinched this time. "I don't need any inheritance nor a title."

"Anthony... Don't dismiss this before even—"

"Fine. I'll think about it. I'll meet this woman. I'll meet her and _then_ give my final answer."

"Very well. I will arrange the meeting and contact you again." The man hesitated and some of his stoic expression vanished. "Do try to stay alive and unharmed until that meeting. Your bloodline is already too close to dying out as it is."

"Right. Because of the bloodline. I'm only one half of that said bloodline." The half Italian raised his eyebrow and the other man looked away, looking almost embarrassed for nearly admitting to actually personally caring about the safety and well being of his client.

"It would do me no good to lose one of my biggest sources of income."

"Of course." Tony chuckled. Shaking his head, he released the elevator where he had dragged his lawyer as soon as he showed up at his work and before the man could reveal anything he didn't wish for his team to find out. Like, having a fiancée. Arranged marriage before he was even born. How old fashioned and at his age.

When the elevator doors opened, Tony stepped outside, but his lawyer remained inside as he left to arrange the 'first date' between Tony and this mystery woman.

"What did he want?" Gibbs demanded to know as soon as Tony sat down behind his desk. McGee and Ziva looked far too curious for their own good.

"Nothing important," Tony dismissed it. "The usual lawyer stuff. Someone died, I'm not inheriting anything and blah blah blah. You know. The usual. I don't know why I have to meet my lawyer every time just to be told that nope, nothing for you, pal. Sorry."

Gibbs didn't look like he believed him, but at least he let it go for now. "Lawyers. There's a reason we don't like them."

"Right," Tony muttered and deny as he did it, his mind kept going back toward the fiancée he had never even met, much less heard of. At least he wasn't already taken because wouldn't _that_ be awkward situation... He was only going to meet her to keep his lawyer and family happy _ish_. It wasn't like he was going to actually marry her or anything. No way Jose.

**_The End_ **


	3. Cryptic

The message arrived in a small box; small enough to fit the palm of his hand. There was no message with the box itself and after the case of the plague filled letter, Gibbs was understandably wary and not in a hurry trying to open the box. Not only that, but the box had been left in the basement, hidden away with his bourbon. The box looked sleek and had no visible places where it could be opened. It looked rather high tech even to Gibbs' untrained eyes. For a moment he thought about getting fingerprints from it, but by then it was already full of his own fingerprints and something told him there would be no other fingerprints found.

Feeling frustrated when he couldn't figure out how to open the accursed thing, Gibbs kept turning it over impatiently and running his fingers over the surface in case he could feel the place where it would open, even if he couldn't see it. Just as he was giving up, one of his fingers brushed over the area that felt slightly less smooth and he saw a flash of green light—in the shape of his fingerprint—appear from somewhere underneath the box's surface and he heard a sound as it finally opened.

Shaking his head at the ridiculousness of the whole thing, Gibbs finally saw what was hidden inside it. A small piece of paper. All this for a single piece of paper? The writing on it was so small he was forced to fetch his glasses and wear them. The note was cryptic and didn't answer the biggest questions that he had,

 **_' Boss, I know by now you must have figured out something isn't quite right._ **  
**_I can only imagine what reasons Vance gave you for why he wouldn't bring me back._ **  
**_I can't tell you anything—you don't need to know—but I trust that I don't have to._ **  
**_If anyone asks, you included, I'm stuck and bored out of my mind as the Agent Afloat._ **  
**_I'll be fine. Don't look too deep or I won't be._ **

**_P.S. Want to see something neat? Take this letter and put it in a glass of water._ **  
**_Pretty cool, right?_ **

**_P.P.S. I kind of shouldn't have taken this box nor contacted you,_ **  
**_so I set it to self-destruct fifteen minutes after you opened it._ **  
**_Throw it in the backyard and you should be fine.'_ **

Gibbs read the letter over several times. Shaking his head, he only hesitated for a moment before going in the kitchen and filling a glass with water. Putting the letter in, he stared as it dissolved in a matter of few seconds and not leaving a trace of it behind. With a small twitch of his lips, he swore to keep a close eye on Vance and make the man's life a living hell for whatever it was that he had done to his Agent. "Stay safe, Tony... You don't have my permission to die."

Suddenly he heard a high pitched warning signal and he cursed, remembering the last warning on the note. Cursing DiNozzo, Gibbs quickly grabbed the box and opening the kitchen window, he threw it outside just in time to see it explode into fine powdered dust.

"You better come home soon, DiNozzo. You have many head slaps coming..."

**_The End_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Episode Tag: Agent Afloat


	4. Drowning

The air wouldn't come; it was out of his reach and his lungs were on fire. It didn't... He couldn't... God, please... Where was the air..? Why couldn't he breathe..? He looked down at the two, Gibbs and that blonde girl. Maddie. Right... He just gave up his air for them... From one to two, or two plus one since he still needed that same air for himself. Somehow the math didn't make much sense to him right then so he gave up trying.

Tony stood up slowly. His feet were shaky and he felt dizzy and floaty. There were black spots everywhere in front of him, like dark fireflies. He closed his eyes for a moment, but it was just as another strong wave of dizziness came and he stumbled.

_Oh, this can't be good._

He was only distantly aware that he was falling and that he couldn't breathe again. When he tried, his lungs were filled with that same cold water now surrounding him. He should probably start swimming up, but he was too tired and all out of any will to keep forcing his body to do the impossible. He would rest for a moment, then he would try again. Just a moment...

Outside the dark waters and somewhere above him there were lights and colors, kind of. Maybe some sounds too, but there were no sounds in his new ice cold kingdom. He was feeling numb. Good. Numb was good. Much better than the pain and agony from before. He was probably too calm.

There was movement in the water and Tony realized something bigger than small fish was coming straight at him and he even sort of saw a shape of that something getting closer. A shark? Were there any sharks in there? He couldn't remember. Oh well, it was the natural circle of life. He ate fish and now some big fish would eat him.

_Yippee... I just bought this shirt... and my Gucci shoes._

Something touched his face and then he was pulled up, up and up...

Next thing he was aware of, he was lying on his back somewhere and there was no water surrounding him anymore. His eyes were probably still open because he could kind of see some odd shapes and colors, moving constantly around him. The sounds were muted and not very clear to his ears.

_Am I dead?_

"No... Nonono... No, you don't..!" someone was yelling at him.

It was the strangest thing. He was aware that he wasn't breathing, was probably unconscious and yet he was aware of what was happening. Some of it anyway. Then he felt the most uncomfortable sensation against his lips.

_Ouch... Whisker burn, boss... Would you mind?_

"Tony..!" There was desperation in Gibbs' voice as he or someone else was now pressing at his chest. Could it still hurt when you were dead? "Please... Don't do this... Tony..."

Tony knew he should probably fight more, but he was just too tired and he saw how everything was starting to fade into white. Into nothing. He no longer felt pain. He was wrapped into a warm feeling of nothingness and he kinda liked that feeling as opposed to all the previous. The lips were on his again, which he could barely even feel anymore, and suddenly against his wishes Tony's eyes flashed wide open and he started coughing out that filthy water and once again he tried to get some air into his burning lungs.

_God, it hurts so much..! Please...  
_

"That's it, Tony... Attaboy... You can do it..." Gibbs sounded weak and breathless and maybe he was after giving back the air, which Tony first gave to him. Another hand, which Tony was pretty sure couldn't be the man's, was holding his hand. It was too slender and smooth to be the boss' hand, just to start with.

_God, it really hurts... No more... Please... No more...  
_

Something was hitting against his back after Tony was turned on his side and he kept vomiting out water while simultaneously trying to breathe.

"Jethro, you need to move away so that they can work on him and you need to let them help you as well. At least sit down before you pass out. I do not like the way you look. The color of your skin looks rather alarming."

 _Ducky_.

"I'm going... with him."

_Ah, boss... Stubborn ass... Just let me go and take care of yourself and that girl... I'll be fine._

"Jethro, there is not enough room in— Ah, there it is. The other ambulance. Finally. Now if you would— Jethro!"

_Hmm? What did the boss do this time?_

He was still too out of it to be fully aware of his surroundings, but Tony realized he was now probably inside the ambulance and someone was holding his hand again. No longer that slender girly hand from before.

"You'll be fine, DiNozzo... You listening..?"

Green met blue and Tony quirked a tired smile behind the thing giving him air, which still wasn't quite enough.

"Yeah... I did a runner," Gibbs muttered gruffly as he leaned heavily against the stretcher, ignoring the other people there who were either trying to get him to move out of the way or take care of him as well. "Have to make sure," he coughed, as if for a reminder to himself that he too nearly drowned, "you're being taken care... properly."

Tony squeezed his eyes closed and then he felt soft breath against his ear.

"Thank you for... coming after me and..." Gibbs hesitated. "Thank you for not dying on me... but if you _ever_ do that again..."

Green met blue again and Tony sighed.

"Don't you dare do that again..."

**_The End_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Episode Tag: Requiem  
> Alternate ending [Chapter 7: Gone](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7220212/chapters/16387273)


	5. Escape

"Well this sucks," Tony muttered as he pulled at his restraints. The ropes had burned red marks all around his wrists by now, but he'd much rather break his hands instead of waiting for what was going to happen if he didn't escape.

Of course it would be a woman who got him into this mess. That wasn't the embarrassing part since he knew women could be much more dangerous than men, given that many were still willing to give the benefit of the doubt when it came to a pretty woman batting at her long lashes and looking all sweet and harmless when behind her back there could be anything from a baseball bat to a poison.

The embarrassing part was that the woman who got him into this mess was an old lady. Really, an old lady who could easily be in her nineties for all he knew. She was frail and smelled of freshly made bread. She kind of reminded him of his nonna, until he got his head bashed in by her and he found out she's more like the witch from Hansel and Gretel; big oven and everything. He was never again going to follow kind looking old ladies into their basements. No matter what 'something for being so helpful' they had there for him. He would also probably never again eat any bread, knowing what kind of meat filling her bread had... Who did he piss off to end up with a target mark on his head for a modern day cannibal?

The burning pain around his wrists was getting worse as Tony kept trying to get the ropes open. He knew from the past victims that his time was running out by the time it was dark so he only had few hours to go, unless she decided to return early and keep him company.

The ropes finally snapped open and he could almost kiss Gibbs for having installed rule nine into him. It was one of the few actually useful rules. "Finally. Thank God. Thank you, thank you, thank you."

He stood up and eyed the small basement. He was free and yet he wasn't. Now what? Trying the door, he already had known it wouldn't bulge. It was locked and firm. No amount of kicking and pushing would help. Not without super human strength. Looking around, Tony saw the window. Since he was in a basement, of course it was small, but it looked like he just might fit through it. Dare he try it? Hearing some distant noise outside the dusty old room, he knew it was either squeeze his way out or be made into a stuffed bread.

Cracking his joints, Tony saw an old metal bucket and put it upside down under the window to use as a stool. Time for another miracle. If all went well, he'd be out before Gibbs even realized he'd been kidnapped. All he had to do was reach and open the window and then wiggle his way out into freedom. Easy peasy.

Until...

"Aw, crap. Really?"

The idea had been good in theory and he almost succeeded. At least there was no one to see his shame.

"Well this sucks."

How did it happen? He wouldn't know. You'd think that if he had to get stuck it would be his shoulders and not his ass. Something was holding him there and no amount of pulling and pushing helped. Did the window shrink or what? And if he said so himself, his ass was just fine. The chicks digged it. He digged it. So why did this happen?

He was still cursing his luck and the too small window when suddenly a shadow landed over him. He stopped struggling and looked up.

"DiNozzo?" It was Gibbs. Of course it had to be Gibbs. He was standing there while McGee and Ziva were taking the old cannibal grandma in the car.

"Hi, boss. Fancy meeting you here," Tony answered weakly. At least the boss wasn't laughing. No. No, wait. There it was. That curl of the one corner of the man's lips. He was probably dying of laughter inside.

"You look like you could use some help."

"Yeah... So, " Tony coughed, "any idea why she targeted me?" he asked, trying desperately to move the attention away from his unfortunate situation while trying to wiggle himself free.

Gibbs was full on chuckling then. "Apparently she thought you looked delicious."

Tony groaned. He was so going on a diet after this.

_**The End** _


	6. Fine

_Fine is a four letter word._

He was fine. He'd lost many things in his life and he was neither the first nor last person suffering. He'd lost his mother at a much too young age and never really had his parents there in the first place, but for a small boy who had adored her desperately, it had been the first sign of the things to come and what his life would be.

He lost his feeling of safety the first time his father started leaving him behind in the strangest places; hotels, streets, around people he didn't know. Being forgotten.

He'd never had a father in the first place since the man was never there as such, but when he lost the man—legally—at the age of twelve, he didn't think he'd ever survive the deep hurt and the desperate situation of having to survive on his own. He had to build his life from nothing, without help, and carve out his own way through the harsh world.

When he thought he'd found his place and that everything would finally work out, he lost his chance again in the form of a broken leg. He learned to despise hospitals and doctors for the second time in his life when he was recovering and trying to stay positive. His friends and teammates visited him then and tried to keep his spirits up, but he knew better and it didn't take long to lose some of those friends once they no longer moved in the same circles, talked about all the same things, same plans and interests.

He would never forget that young girl he couldn't save from the burning building, her screams that cut through his very soul and the brother whose pain became his to share throughout his life like some kind of penance for his failure. In the end it was perhaps one of the things to lead him toward his fate.

He finally found his way again and his curse had become a blessing in disguise; he became a cop and had never regretted that choice. Most of the time. There was the hazing of course, many times, but he'd gotten long used to it by then and got used to it once again, brutal as it was at times, making him move elsewhere after that one time when it got too far. There were times he got hurt doing his job, but it all worked out in the end. He lost his first victim during a case and could never forget that face even now. He lost his first partner and hadn't been quite prepared for it, but at least he'd been more prepared for it when he lost other partners. Perhaps he was cursed. He had to kill a man for the first time and it killed something in him also, but he'd come to terms with that loss, understanding that it was simply his part of growing up and becoming a man. By sacrificing himself, he could save others.

He thought he found his true place by the time Gibbs showed up as an unyielding force, which he at the time thought was a good thing. Someone with such a strong will and mind of their own surely could be someone he could lean on and trust. He wouldn't be like all the others who betrayed and left him behind.

Kate arrived and he began to lose Gibbs. McGee arrived and suddenly he lost his intelligence, because the new guy had to feel special enough to be kept around. Kate died and he was still seeing phantom blood on his face sometimes when he looked in the mirror. Ziva arrived, like a strong breath of betrayal that nearly knocked him over each time he saw her sitting behind Kate's desk. Smiling at her was becoming more painful. Ziva arrived and he lost even more of Gibbs, his friendship and everything that had been and almost could've been. He began to lose his place again.

He lost his feeling of safety again, the last of his trust in those he should count on when his partners left him without a backup. By then it had become all too familiar feeling and so reporting it had never even crossed his mind. It was only he and he was fine. Wasn't he?

His father won again, as he always did. For the lost child in him, it had been a cruel slap in the face to have his team side with his abuser. True, he hadn't explained it all in explicit details, but hadn't he given enough hints to read between the lines? For investigators it should've been an easy thing to do. Besides, Gibbs had even more than that, thanks to those late night shared drinks and unmanly drunken confessions.

He began to lose a few more of his old friends, because life happened to them all. It was fine, he still had his team. His job.

Gibbs lost his memory and he might just as well have been dead. He lost Gibbs. Gibbs was gone. Gibbs was back. Gibbs was gone, again. Gibbs was back, again, but he was still gone and for good as he would learn with time. He was pushed aside, much like his things had been moved aside without a second thought and all the while he'd done his works to the best of his ability, alone. Everything alone. But he survived and he was fine even if he'd almost died a few times, now and then. He lost a car, which was a little more than a car to him, but who cared. He lost another car. Maybe he really was cursed. But still he was fine. He'd survived many things worse, like having his lungs ruined for good and having to plan his life around what he could and couldn't handle. Of course those plans never worked, but who counted. He was still fine, even when saving Gibbs and that girl from drowning. Doing the impossible. He was fine, even if that case was another reminder that he'd lost Gibbs' trust, if he had it in the first place.

He still hadn't lost his loyalty. God knows how or why. He was getting tired of holding on to that.

He had been in love three times in his life. Wendy and Jeanne were the easy ones, compared to the third. Wendy was a mistake, but it still hurt to lose her the way he did. Jeanne was much more complicated for obvious reasons, but God knew, he did _ **—**_ had loved her. For a desperate while she'd been his calm in the storm. God knew, he'd loved her, but then he lost her. He always regretted choosing his job. He'd never thought he would ever do something his father would do and choose the business, the job, before those he should've loved. But then, he wondered about the kind of love he'd felt for Jeanne, considering the circumstances.

Then there was _her_ , the complicated, beloved, mess. No other woman had ever been able to ruin him the same way and he'd probably never recover from it. The relationship had been a cliché from the very beginning and everyone around them had been so sure they'd end up together. His sweet Claire. The one who got away, but not before she ripped his heart out and took it with her. He wondered how she was doing in these days.

He was never close with Jenny, but her death felt like a loss either way. Perhaps because it was yet another failure. He was tossed aside again, on the sea, in the sea. It was all the same. He was drowning either way and understood it as his punishment for failing her. He just never understood why it was always only his part to bear the punishment.

There was so much more before, during and after, but thinking became hard. Something wet was sliding down his cheek. Blood, he assumed. When it passed the corner of his lip, he tasted salt. Tony coughed and tried to move again, but he was pinned between the seat and the steering wheel. He couldn't feel his legs, but that didn't necessarily have to mean a thing. Everything was fine. The phone, surprisingly, had survived the crash and was now ringing somewhere under the seat. Relentlessly, much like Gibbs.

Fine was a four letter word, but then, it was just a word. Words, he'd learned, rarely meant anything they were supposed to convey.

**_The End_ **


	7. Gone

It's funny how for someone so bright and sunny, and always so much _there_ and present, he was so invisible. Maybe it was because he always tried too hard, to please everyone or to piss them off if the first didn't work. At the end of the day it didn't really matter, although at least he saved Gibbs and the girl. That had to count for something. And now, since the waters were denied their claim, they took him instead. He'd probably run out of his spare lives, which were more than most ever got. He didn't mind the sacrifices, but the sad thing was that no one even realized when Tony DiNozzo ceased to exist, and he had no way to know if anyone would care. How could he, when even he'd stopped caring?

The one thing he would probably change was how he died. Drowning was high on his ' _absolutely not_ ' list of ways to die. The only comfort was knowing that it could be worse. At least he died a hero like he'd always dreamed. No accidents on the road, some deadly disease, or dying old, weak and frail; abandoned in some poor old nursing home from the last century, falling apart and filthy. He was still at his prime age, handsome to boot. That'd make a nice last memories to anyone who cared to remember. A hero. Too bad he was too far gone to ever come to that conclusion.

Tony's last clear thought before he left this world was, _God, it hurts_... After that things became hazy, both in his head and in front of his eyes, what little he could see in the first place; the water wasn't exactly photogenic, although she had plenty of personality. But still, she wasn't fit for some pretty holiday commercial or a shiny leaflet. Maybe for the third class packet, when everything else was sold. He however, he'd always been a lover of beauty and high-quality. Too bad the two didn't always go hand in hand...

For a moment he thought he saw the blue lights again, but then the blue was replaced by nothing.

* * *

Gibbs strolled in the bullpen for the third time that morning. Normally he wouldn't milk his near-death experience for all its worth, since he loathed showing weakness, but when it came to his coffee and his gut being all twisted up, he had no problem stating he needed a break. Thankfully, since the doctors had wanted to keep him for a night before he escaped, it wasn't that hard. "Where's DiNozzo?"

"Ah-um," McGee stammered and glanced to Ziva for help.

"We do not know. Perhaps he is sleeping?" she suggested.

"Then wake him up!" Gibbs snapped and threw his full cup of coffee in the trash can. "I'm going for a coffee run. When I'm back, I want some clear answers. Find DiNozzo!" He stormed back to where he came from.

"Uh-oh... That's not good..." McGee muttered and shared a glance with Ziva.

Meanwhile, instead of coffee, Gibbs was on his way to find Tony. The man knew better than to break so many of his rules, in a row. He'd make sure the man never made that mistake again.

When Gibbs made it to the apartment, and lock picking his way in, he found the place empty with no sign of Tony anywhere. It was almost eerie standing there in the silence as he watched the slight dust sparkling in the sunlight, disturbed by his sudden entrance. It didn't look like the younger man had spent a whole lot of his time at home lately, much less used his bed to sleep in. Standing in the open bedroom doorway, Gibbs stared at the bed that was made. In the kitchen, he found a cup of unfinished, very old, coffee in the sink. There was an old framed photograph of the whole team on the wall, looking detached and frozen in time. The bathroom was cold.

It was probably nothing. Still... Gibbs almost shuddered, feeling as if he was standing in a ghost apartment, abandoned by its owner and now haunted by the memories.

 _"I never thought you to be such a scaredy-cat, boss,"_ the imaginary Tony said all too gleefully. _"Rawr. Or I guess it should be, boo? Boo, boss! Boo-hoo!"_

Taking out his abused phone, Gibbs ruthlessly killed his uncharacteristic overactive imagination and pressed the speed dial, waiting impatiently until he got the recorded message. "DiNozzo! Pick up the phone! Number 3!" This time Gibbs did shudder and he squeezed the phone in his hand. "Tony..? Are you alright? Rule 28. Call me." He hesitated what to say next and then before he could, he was cut off. He fought against the desperation swelling in his gut, looming like a monstrous wave about to crash over him.

Staring at the lonely room for a moment longer, Gibbs finally gave up and left the apartment. DiNozzo would call. He probably was with one of those many conquests of his and already panicking about being late for work. He would call or show up, embarrassed and meek.

 _"Aww, boss. I love you too,"_ 'Tony' cooed mockingly.

* * *

It was in the middle of the day before there was any sign of their lost Agent, if it could be called that. Gibbs was grateful for the work, boring as it was right then, because it had kept his mind busy and his gut feelings pushed aside for a moment. His temper however was short as it could be. Even paperwork didn't want to cooperate and he managed to rip several papers in two when trying to sign them. Then there was the oddest thing of all; his hands were trembling. Not much, but enough to notice when it didn't stop even after half of the day behind since it started.

"Agent Gibbs." The sudden voice of their Director was heavy and ominous. When they looked up, they saw uncertain, even pitying eyes looking down at them. "I would ask why I wasn't informed that one of my agents is absent, but considering the situation, I will forgive you, this time."

Gibbs stood up slowly. "What's that supposed to mean? Where's DiNozzo? What've you done this time, Jenny?" he growled threateningly; knowingly undermining her authority by not using her title. Her posture stiffened and the almost humane look in her eyes turn cold.

"He's dead," she threw the words and almost felt sorry for the way she managed to get a reaction out of him; Gibbs flinched and looked as if he'd been slapped in the face. He was quick to collect himself, but it was too late and his remaining agents were staring at their boss with concern.

"Who?" Gibbs finally choked out, while that same horrible feeling from before was back and he felt like he was drowning again. The trembling was getting more obvious and at this rate he wouldn't be the only one to notice it. Perhaps he shouldn't have left the hospital after all.

"Tony— DiNozzo," she quickly corrected herself when Jethro gave her that dangerous look of his. The man was worried, true, but also pissed off. She had to tone it down if she wished to walk away from this with some dignity. "His body was discovered by a couple of kids, not too far from where you were found. It— he hadn't been in the water for too long, or it would've taken much longer to discover who he was."

Gibbs stared at her unblinkingly, unnerving both her and his team. "I don't believe you," he finally said and then snarled, "For once, be honest. What did you do? Another personal vendetta? I told you not to use him again!" Gibbs saw red and for a moment everything became white noise. His roaring covered the sound of the elevator doors opening. When he came to, it was to find himself restrained by some brave agents. _  
_

"Agent Gibbs! Calm down!" Jenny— the Director was ordering, but even the most obtuse person could hear the trembling in her voice and the way she made sure to not stand too close. She was well aware of what Jethro Gibbs was capable of and much as it displeased her, he was terrifying like this. He was a good weapon to have at her disposal, but not so good when it was out of control, which... was too often honestly, but she'd always thought when it came down to it, she'd be able to have that control. "I have done nothing; he really is dead. We made sure it's the case this time. Doctor— Ducky made sure of it."

Gibbs froze and stared at her. "You're lying."

"No, Jethro. I am afraid she's not," Ducky spoke quietly from behind him. When Gibbs—no longer restrained, although the agents remained close by—turned around to look at his old friend, he saw how old Ducky looked. He didn't seem like he'd been crying, but with the amount of sorrow in those eyes, it wasn't far off.

"No, I'd know if..." Gibbs shook his head in denial and pushed away the hands hovering behind him, ready to close around his biceps. He straightened suddenly. "No. We've been here before. This is DiNozzo we're talking about. He wouldn't dare." He jumped in the elevator and closed it before anyone could follow him.

"Gibbs!"

"Jethro!"

Away from the prying eyes and ears, Gibbs fell heavily against the wall as he shook. "Number 3," he mumbled, thinking about the other rule 3; ' _Don't believe what you're told. Double check_ '. "I swear if this is another joke of yours, DiNozzo, I'll send you to Ducky myself. Tony..." He ignored the bright, mocking laughter of a man much too young to be dead, ringing in his ears with obvious amusement. He refused to acknowledge that from now on it would be only that, a memory.

_**The End** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Episode Tag: Requiem  
> Tragedy  
> Alternate ending to [Chapter 4: Drowning](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7220212/chapters/16387234)


	8. Home

**_"Another summer day is come and gone away, in Paris and Rome, but I want to go home..."_ **

_**—Home by** **Blake Shelton/Michael Bublé**  
_

Tony belted out all he was worth as the radio played the song all too fitting; they were finally going home. The corner of his lip curled up when another voice joined in, much less pleasant to his ears. To think that his kid was completely tone-deaf, was such a heart breaking realization, but he didn't mind it all that much as he shared a grin with the bubbly seven-year-old.

It had been years since he'd stepped his foot in the country he once called home. It had come so suddenly, the homesickness, as he sat on his bed in yet another hotel room several months ago. The country had been beautiful, the world was great and seeing it all was something he wouldn't forget anytime soon. But none of it was home. It had been like waking up from a long slumber, a waking dream; his mind suddenly so clear, wiping away the strange haze that had taken hold of him even before he left on the mad long journey. He'd been running and had been in denial about it, but deep down he had to have known. Why else would he have chosen to leave behind everything, his whole life? His work had been his calling, not something he could normally just walk away from, much less go running around the world with a small child who probably wouldn't later even remember most of their travels, as exciting as they'd been.

Things had become much too strange and toxic back then, both with Gibbs and life in general, and as much as Tony could've disputed the claim that Tali was his, he couldn't do that to her. Whoever her parents were—and he had his suspicions of who the father was—she was innocent. Had he demanded for the DNA test, where would that have left Tali? It had been too late for her mother, but he could still save the daughter. He wanted to believe that perhaps that's why Ziva had done this, knowing deep down that she didn't want Tali to carry on the legacy of her family. He'd probably been the most convenient choice.

Still, it wasn't fair to Tali that her dad used her as an excuse, an 'out of jail' card to bail out from his unbearable situation. She needed stability and a steady place to live, friends to make and childhood to live. Especially now that she was getting older. He wouldn't become Senior, not even the mildest version of it. He would put his child first, give her the best chance.

Seeing the achingly familiar road, Tony smiled slightly as he wondered what the reception would be like since he hadn't called ahead, merely made some careful inquiries whether anyone was home. Did time make things better or worse, he had no idea, which made him nervous and slightly worried. But he was done running. It was time to face the music and decide what the next move would be based on that. "Are you excited to go home, Tali-boo?"

Tali wrinkled her nose at the old nickname; she was too old to be called that. "Yeah. Can we get a dog now, daddy?" She wasn't too old yet to call him daddy though.

Tony groaned inwardly at the old worn out question. "We'll see..."

"That means yes!"

"No, it doesn't." Tony kept the look on his face stern, even while knowing he'd already made an appointment to later go choose the much desired dog. He was soft and getting even softer the older both she and he became.

"Pleeeaaase..."

"Nope, not working, those puppy eyes. I'm immune."

Tali grumbled, but the pout disappeared when they stopped in front of a house that could only be called home. Standing outside, the owner of the house looked surprised, but not displeased when the surprise guests finally left the safety of their car, the music from the radio slowly disappearing behind the closed doors.

Tony swallowed nervously as he pushed his suddenly shy daughter gently forward. "Tali, I want you to meet..."

**_The End_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is post-series. Either actual post-series or post-series as in after Tony left the series, since that's when it was officially over for me. And no, I still don't believe the kid, cute as she is, is Tony's for obvious reasons...


	9. Infected

Gibbs forced his way in through the closing doors, ignoring the shocked, "Sir! You can't go in there!"

Doctor Brad Pitt—of course they would call him again—stopped him and without a word pushed some protective gear for him to wear; the mask and the whole nine yards. Unlike before, this time the man had been prepared for unauthorized people entering where they shouldn't. Just like before, Tony was the one who got infected. Only Tony. Maybe they should start taking seriously the man's fear toward things like rats.

"I didn't think we would meet like this again," Brad was saying, but Gibbs barely heard him as he stared at the all too familiar sight in front of him. "First the letter with the plague and now this? Seriously? A rat." Brad shook his head as he stood next to Gibbs, looking at his patient. "I'd never have gone anywhere near a rat if I were the one with the plague. Even now I wouldn't."

Gibbs took a deep breath. "How is he, doc?"

Brad pursed his lips. "Not as bad as last time," he admitted, but didn't look too happy.

"That's good. Isn't it?"

"No. You don't understand. It wouldn't be as much of an issue if this happened before the plague. Now? He's already compromised from it and even a sniffle could be too much for him if it happened at a right time. You know that. We went through all the things after he was released. I even gave you the list when you came to get him."

Gibbs closed his eyes. Guilt didn't feel good, which was why he didn't like going there. But seeing the reason for that in front of him, sick in a hospital bed again, well... It couldn't be helped.

"Come on then. Since you're already here, I'll let you see him for a moment. We're monitoring him however, so if you so much as touch your mask, you're out of here," Brad warned seriously. Frankly, right now he was much more worried about his patient than Agent Gibbs, who last time had already tested the very limit of his patience.

When Gibbs made his way to the bed where Tony was lying still and looking much too ill for a person who had looked perfectly healthy only a few days ago, he was at a loss for words.

Tony opened his eyes tiredly. "I told you," he wheezed, "that I was sick. I'll never—" Talking was such a troublesome business; he started wheezing and coughing again. "I hate rats."

Gibbs clenched his teeth and didn't say anything to that. _Sorry_? Not his style. _You were right to be worried-scared_? That would be admitting they, he had been wrong. "You're gonna be fine, DiNozzo."

"Don't think I can, b-boss." Tony sounded fearful, which was all wrong, because he wasn't even hiding it. "Not again."

"Yes, again. You did it once so this time you know what needs to be done. It should be a breeze," Gibbs tried for a lighter tone, but if anything that added to the fear already visible.

"Boss, I..." Tony closed his mouth and whatever he was going to say, never came out. "I think I... would've much rather gone down with the ship." Tony laughed quietly and then stopped to wheeze again. He was almost whimpering with desperation as he sought for relief. Gibbs had to look away for a moment, to put his own emotions under control. "Faster, cooler and going with a big bang." Tony grinned with a hint of bitterness. Of course he wasn't serious, because had he still been on Chimera, then so would've the others. So if he had died on the ship, so would've they. "I'd trade with the Russians if I could."

"You'll be fine," Gibbs said and wasn't sure who he was trying to convince; himself or Tony. "You'll be fine."

Tony snorted. "Thought you wanted me to die silently," he reminded Gibbs of his words.

Gibbs was stricken. "I didn't... I didn't mean that. You know I wouldn't."

"Do I?" Tony shook his head. "Don't worry... My irrational fear and I will do our best to—" he was cut off by the need to find his breath again.

"To..?" Gibbs didn't really want to even know, but it had to be better than watch Tony struggling.

"To die as silently as I can."

**_The End_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Episode Tag: Chimera
> 
> Hmm, yeah. I promise I'll soon try to write something happier. And for whatever it's worth, I don't see this ending with Tony dead. Anyway... Today is the last day. Goodbye. Last day of the year that is. See you on the other side. Have a good last of the old and the new year to come, people. Man, where does the time go and so fast the older I get... I'm getting older...


	10. Jurisdiction

"What've we got?"

Ducky glanced up. "I cannot be certain, until I do the autopsy, but it's almost certain that this poor man was poisoned."

Gibbs frowned as he finally actually looked at the victim. The clothes were ill-fitting. The haircut, a sloppy rush job. Tan looked almost orange. The body, like something from a regular gym package. "I don't think he was a Marine," he finally decided.

"No, he was not," unfamiliar voice responded. Before Gibbs had even turned around to see the person, he already knew that someone had to be young. He was.

"This is a crime scene," Gibbs grumbled and was about to chase the young man away, when he noticed the detective's badge hanging from the neck. Gibbs eyed him suspiciously. "My crime scene," he added, just in case.

The young man grinned, revealing a perfect set of pearly white teeth. "Sorry, pal. Not anymore."

"Who're you?"

"Detective. Detective Anthony DiNozzo at not your service. And that one looking green over there is my partner. He gets carsick." He nodded his head toward the body, where Ducky had stopped his initial work and was now watching them with fascination. "This man was not a Marine. There isn't one even among his family or friends. No, I'm afraid he's one of my bad guys from my ongoing case. Almost closed, if I have my way. We've been chasing them for a while now; we caught one, this one's dead and one is still somewhere. Pretty likely is also the murderer."

"Don't assume. How did you even know to come here?" Gibbs questioned and now he was even more suspicious of this one.

"I have many good connections. Goood connections. Even your Director is a fan of mine, just to warn you. Work smarter, not harder. That's my work motto, Agent Gibbs. You should try it sometime."

"You know me?" Gibbs glared and the cocky smirk widened if at all possible. And no, the Detective hadn't stopped smiling since he started doing it.

"Like I said, I have connections. I know people. Besides, you practically scream of work and no rest. And if worst comes, I'll just put Fornell on you. Apparently he has a bone to pick with you."

"Tobias Fornell?"

"I know people, Gibbs."

"I'm not giving this up. I'm sure if you've heard things about me, that's probably on top of the list."

The Detective shrugged. "I like a challenge, but even you have to admit that you're in a losing team this time."

"I don't lose."

"Well, everybody needs to experience their first time someday."

"I was probably working before you were even out of your diapers. More connections too."

"Age before beauty, huh? I don't necessarily agree with it. Besides, haven't you heard? It's not the quantity but quality that counts."

Gibbs glared and ignored Ducky's less than subtle chuckle. "I got the call and I was here first. My city too, I'm pretty sure."

Tony's smile turned feral. "I have many victims and their families waiting for justice and closure. You won't win this one."

"So what're we gonna do then?" Gibbs asked, but it sounded more like a threat to back off. It didn't work.

_**The End** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pre-series
> 
> I think most stories _(or all, from the ones I've read)_ about their first meeting is pretty much where Gibbs shows up and either steals the case or they share it. I kind of like the idea of turning that one the other way around, where Tony is the one who shows up to do the same to him.


	11. Key

The weight wasn't much, but then again neither was the size. It looked ridiculous when held between his thumb and forefinger, which made his hand look massive. If the key didn't come with the chain, he'd be afraid to lose it.

That Senior had kept this from him all these years, shouldn't come as a surprise and yet there was a small part of him that was still deeply disappointed. It was only thanks to his lawyer, finally, getting his hands on the copy of his mother's last will that they found out. His father of course had vehemently denied even knowing what they were talking about, until Tony remembered seeing the key on his father's desk several times as a kid. After that it didn't take long to solve the mystery of where it had ended up. Around his father's neck. For a short moment Tony had dared to daydream strangling his father with it; he was that furious. The man had already stolen his meager monetary inheritance and then he tried to take even the last of it. From his own child. The only thing the old man seemed to be sorry for was that he had to give up the key.

It was probably a blessing that the old conman didn't know what the key was for; otherwise there would be nothing left of whatever his wife had left for their son. Probably because she knew what kind of man her husband was.

Shaking his head to clear it from any unpleasant thoughts, Tony finally opened the box in front of him. Once he actually saw what was in it, he grinned as he read the short letter accompanying the content. His father would be so disappointed. Miserably so. On the other hand, the carefully packaged old rolls of film and photos were to him worth more than all the money on earth. Tony's smile twisted into something bitter, which was the feeling he'd carried with him since his childhood. Ever since _that day_.

After her death, Senior had destroyed any remainders of his wife. At first because he couldn't stand to be reminded of her. Then he destroyed whatever was still left, because his new wife hadn't been too happy when she happened to find an old photo of the first wife. That's when the real purge began and anything that reminded of her, had to go. Tony had probably never cried so much as he did on that day. It wasn't a memory he liked to visit. Even the son hadn't been spared from being erased. Senior was all too good at pretending the boy didn't exist.

Taking in a shaky breath, Tony closed the lid of the now empty box—his treasure carefully moved in the sturdy bag he'd taken with him—and walked out of the room, briefly nodding his head to the guard at the door.

"Everything alright?" the man asked kindly, having seen Tony's moment of anxiety before entering the vault.

"Better now," Tony admitted.

"Have a good day, sir."

Tony smiled uncomfortably. Now was one of those times when he could understand why Gibbs didn't like to be called 'sir'. It was too formal and made you feel much too old. It also reminded him of his dear old man, who _adored_ titles like that. "Thank you," he answered and left the place behind, feeling lighter than he had in years, with the knowledge that his mother had foreseen what would happen and had saved some of those precious memories. Inwardly, Tony turned the key and he finally locked away the hurt that had followed him around since losing the visible reminders of her.

_**The End** _


	12. Loneliness

_**It was like a guest who invites himself inside your home, your safe haven, and refuses to leave.** _

His footsteps echoed through the big house, reinforcing that there was no one else there with him. He also probably shouldn't have watched that movie, which had only added to his own sadness and loneliness, but this was a special day and it was one of his mother's movies, which was a way to bring her closer to him. It was just he and his father now, with the occasional candidate for a stepmother. Or really, he and the house, so he didn't have much else besides his mother's movies and music.

Now was one of those times when his father's business meeting had lasted far longer than was normal, even by Senior's standards. Tony wasn't worried; he assumed that his father had either met a woman or ran into some trouble, which meant that soon there would be the cops, or even FBI, knocking at their door. While he didn't like helping his father, he did enjoy playing with the 'big guys' and watching them run in circles, trying to catch Senior. He was getting scary good at that game lately. If his father was the type, he would be proud.

Tony opened the door to his secret hiding place and made his way to the small cupboard, where he took out his old worn out teddy. He was too old to still be playing with toys, his father would say. Senior did indeed order his old toys to be taken away a while ago and then replaced them with things that he deemed proper for his son who was ' _almost a man_ '. Today at the age of eleven, Tony still didn't care for the new things, but he did know how to use his imagination for his lonely games. It was one thing that his father could not take from him, he didn't think. He had even created his very own imaginary friend, although he knew deep down that wasn't real. Still, at times like these he preferred his old Roger the bear who'd been there with him since the day he was born.

Tony sat down on the floor, hugging Roger and hummed a familiar birthday tune to his old friend.

* * *

  _ **It became like a hungry animal who used to look small and harmless; now it's a monster with many faces.** _

Tony the adult—today for the last twenty years—sat on the couch watching a movie and feeling not the usual pleasure he normally would. On the coffee table he had one of each from his favorite bakery that was more like a dessert heaven. But even _Mama Violottie's_ couldn't help him today, which was why most of it remained untouched. Instead, most of the beer and nearly a full bottle of wine was gone.

Feeling disconcertingly detached from _'The spy who loved me'_ , Tony brought the bottle of beer back to his mouth to take another long sip, while he contemplated over the big questions of life. There was nothing wrong with the movie, but rather the company or lack of it; he didn't enjoy entertaining himself, alone. At least if he made a fool out of himself, he preferred some company. That's what loneliness did to a person, he supposed. You became desperate enough to claw at the straws from the camel's mouth.

 _Camel?_ Tony frowned at his odd train of thought and glared at the bottle of beer.

He didn't know why he had an apartment that was much too big for him alone. All it did now was remind him of his childhood home and the sheer feeling of hollowness it had generated, although this place was nowhere near that big, thank God. Not only that, but he had little time and energy to spare next to his work. Who would he spend it with anyway? All his friends lived too far and whatever it was that he had in here, he didn't have. There was a reason why he enjoyed his frat years so much, even if it hadn't been the most perfect thing ever, contrary to what he liked to tell people. At least he hadn't been lonely then and people liked spending time with him. There had been people who _wanted_ to spend time with him.

He was now almost forty and what did he have to show off from the life he'd lived? He had his big empty apartment, the complicated relationship with his work, fancy clothes and the big act for people; friends and foes alike. All it was, was hiding himself and the constant feeling of numbness so bad that it hurt.

Since the beer had only managed to depress him more, Tony put away the bottle, while his other hand was unconsciously reaching toward the pillow on the couch. With a weary from the soul sigh, he brought it closer to his face and wrapped his arms around it, hugging it tightly. He may have lost his Roger the bear years ago, but this habit never died; the seeking comfort from random soft pillows if they happened to be around. He was still wrapped around his pillow when the phone went off. He eyed the birthday cards on the coffee table and tried not to already feel disappointed that the person calling wouldn't be someone with a happy birthday greeting.

**_The End_ **


	13. Mobster

They stared at him, stunned; their disbelief was beyond compare. Gibbs especially felt like the Earth itself just went dramatically off its axis. He would have never, not even in his wildest dreams, guessed. How could he have been so blind? He always knew. His gut was legendary. _He always knew._ So then how, how could this be possible? Was the man's name even DiNozzo? Was it all a lie?

Tony kept his face impassive and kept his own hurt hidden. It was almost sad that he had to reveal his true identity by saving the man who would never thank him for it, whether he was an Agent or a mobster. "What do you want me to say? I'm not sorry. Not anymore. Surprise this should not be, so I can't say that either." Seeing the added confusion, Tony rolled his eyes. "Come on. This isn't exactly the first time you or someone else close to you has been fooled and allowed enemies on your turf, so easily, which says more about you than us."

"All these years," Gibbs finally uttered and, ah, there it finally was; the slowly growing anger. Betrayal. "I thought..."

"Loyal St. Bernard. I admit, that was one of my best."

"We trusted you!" _I trusted you._

Tony shook his head. "No, you didn't."

Gibbs jerked forward, while his fingers twitched and he looked like someone contemplating murder.

"I'm guessing I won't be getting any special treatment." Tony shrugged. "I suppose my mother was right when she wished I had been born a girl. Sure could use that now." He glanced meaningfully toward Ziva who was speechless for once, but not for long, he could see.

"I did your background check," Gibbs tried as his voice grew louder, surer. "We know your father." _I thought I knew you_ , was what he didn't say, but was clear with the way he spoke.

"You found some truths with some lies. I didn't just pop out of nowhere. This whole thing started before I was even old enough to walk. You've never met my father; the one you met is who I call my babysitter, who shows up every once in a while. And no, we really don't like each other."

"Was everything just a lie?" McGee asked, looking much too confident.

Tony glanced at him. "Like I said, it's truth with lies. I did get the plague, you know. I wasn't merely playing around and doing no real work. My school years, all my training and work history hasn't changed. My name was changed legally. Barely and using many connections, but still, legally. And before you ask, no, I never gave my father anything useful. You'd know if I did. He's got more people under his thumb than you'd believe." _His son included_ , he didn't say since that hadn't been true since the day he learned how to manipulate one of the most dangerous minds.

"You know this can only end one way," Gibbs said.

"First of all, not all mob families are the same, their crimes included. Sometimes it's nothing more than carrying the legacy of our fathers that has nothing to do with the children. I'm not saying that my father is Snow White, but I haven't actually done anything, other than to be born into a wrong kind of family. I would think carefully whether it'd be worth it, but I welcome you to try. You've always liked a good challenge, so have fun wasting more resources on another personal vendetta." Tony wasn't worried about going to prison. Nothing they had against him was enough. Truly, his only real crime was to have his people cover up his family history. They, Gibbs and his team, hadn't even used any official setting to get his actual confession on a tape or anything. All they had was their word against his and with the kind of reputation they had, this was a child's play for his lawyer. Still, this was the last sign that it was past the time to move on to the next things.

Before he made his way out, Tony stopped at the door. "You know what's really curious that I learned from all of this? Crime really does pay off well if you're the one running things, or working for someone who does, and are called one of the good guys. I saw everything so black and white, ready to rebel against my own father, but you taught me a valuable lesson. I guess I owe you one."

"Tony..." Gibbs was conflicted, going between anger and desperation, with the ever present astonishment. He also tried to reason with himself that perhaps this was just another undercover gig he didn't know about, because there simply was _no way_ this could be possible. From the looks on the faces of his remaining agents, he could see that they were thinking something very similar. That was it. That's what this had to be.

Tony walked out with a carefree, almost arrogant swagger and didn't look back. If he wasn't feeling so carefree inside, no one but he would ever know. He wasn't lying when he said that he used to see things clearly black and white. Good and bad. The good guys and the bad guys. One side and the other. Maybe his father had been right to complain that he watched too many movies and read too many comic books about super heroes. His childhood dreams had been crushed, because the world he'd been dreaming about, didn't exist. All he now had was his own morality and having to decide whether it was good enough, and what to do with it.

Jeanne looked at him with sympathy when he opened the car door with more strength than it needed. "Everything okay?"

"No, but it will be."

**_The End_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who do you think was actually "betrayed" here? I think that either way, he'd probably still be morally on a more level and higher ground than his boss. *coughs* I had to go there, sorry.


	14. Network

The old man feeding the birds looked up when a familiar face made his way over the street to where he usual got his coffee from, which was pretty much the only place in the area where people knew how he liked his and strangely always knew exactly when he would show up. The old man shook his head at the stormy look on the Agent's face and finished typing his text message, _**'...and I know for a fact that the company stopped manufacturing it twenty years ago. I just saw Gibbs, so I'm guessing it's urgent. I'll ask around some more and let you know.'**_

"Have a nice day, sir," the pretty waitress said with a smile after the Agent had paid for the usual and nearly bumped into her on the way out. When he grunted his reply and left the building, she sent a quick text message, **_'He's on his way'._**

When the Agent entered the Navy Yard a moment later, the guard nodded his head as his greeting, already knowing that the man was one of very few words. He then sent a quick text message, _**'He's here'.**_

The janitor was usually the one people overlooked and few even knew his name, if they even remembered the gender. It made observing people much easier. He looked up when the Agent entered the bullpen and stopped in the shadows. The janitor took out his cell and sent a text message, _**'He's spying on you again. Better watch out, kiddo.'**_ He watched as one of the agents stopped his wild gesturing and glanced at his phone. **  
**

Gibbs took a sip of his coffee and observed his team quietly. He frowned when he saw the usual banter and no actual visible sign of the work being done. Time for his mysterious appearance.

"How did you do that?" McGee wondered as Tony finished sharing what he just discovered, with the help of someone from his network knowing useful information he'd been able to use.

"Work smarted and—"

"Not harder," McGee and Kate finished in chorus.

Tony smirked. "Hard work takes you far, but it never hurts to know a few loopholes and have good connections. Hi, boss," he spoke before the hand could connect with the back of his poor head. He turned around with a flourish and stood up. "I think I've got something..:"

**_The End_ **


	15. Omelette

Gibbs would never admit that he had tried to impress the teenager, but that's exactly what it was. Despite the carefree attitude from before, it had turned out to be a near impossible thing trying to get the kid to trust him and finally go back to being the teenager he first met. Serious and wary look didn't really suit the young face that was made for smiling. Usually he was good with kids, but this one was shaping up to be a true challenge even for him. Apparently the thirteen-year-old wasn't like the rest of them. Gibbs was getting desperate.

The teen had been part of a case and since there was no other place and it was just for the one night, Gibbs had decided he could take the kid. How hard could it be? Sure, the teen's sunny face had turned suspicious and ever since entering the house, he kept giving those untrusting looks of his, like waiting for the other shoe to drop. Neither of them had been given the time to eat much during the day, but it was also getting late so the food couldn't be anything too heavy. Not that there was much in the fridge. Gibbs then decided to make pancakes. At least that was something he was good at, after practicing hours so he could impress one little girl who had enjoyed the show in the kitchen. It had been years ago, the past, which Gibbs didn't talk about. It was like riding a bike, he reminded himself.

The young teen, Tony, wasn't impressed. He was more baffled than anything else as he watched the serious Agent in the kitchen, flour all over the counter, the floor and even himself. Pancakes, the man had said to him when he took out the pan. This however looked more like some awkward one man show. "What are you doing?" he finally asked when the curiosity won.

Gibbs, in the middle of flipping a pancake, was startled hearing the voice after a long silence and missed. He cursed as he stared at the pancake on the floor and then mentally head slapped himself for the use of language while there was a kid around. "I was flipping the pancake," he answered irritably. "It's not as easy as I remembered," he admitted after a pause.

Tony giggle snorted, earning himself a surprisingly pleased look. "That's what it was? That swearing and glaring was you concentrating? I thought you're mad at me and tried to figure out what I did wrong, when all it was is basically your default face. Am I right?" Tony really was giggling now.

Gibbs glared, but it didn't last and soon his lips were twitching. "Alright, smartass. You think you can do it better?"

Tony looked shy. "I can make a good omelette. I could?"

Gibbs scowled when his stomach answered for him. "Go on then. If you find anything in the fridge that's needed, you can make it. I'll finish making these."

Tony bit his lip to keep from laughing, but his reddening face betrayed him. "They look... They look interesting. I'm sure they'll taste good."

Gibbs sighed and gave up. "Alright. I haven't done this in years. I may have forgotten how it's done. I used to be good at it."

"I think you messed up with few ingredients..."

Gibbs stared at the pancakes and finally started looking at the labels of things, not to mention the dates, and frowned. For all the little that he knew, he probably almost sent both of them in a hospital or something. If Ducky found out, he'd never hear the end of it... "Omelette it is then," he finally said. It might be because he was hungry, but it was good. And they finally managed to even bond over the food and surprising like-mindedness over certain things, just as much as their differences, which oddly enough only made things more interesting.

Not to be beaten so easily, Gibbs later started practicing making that perfect pancake and flipping it in the air until he got it right. Just so he could impress... no one. He just didn't like losing, that's all. It never did compare to that first shared meal however. Omelette, he decided, might just be his new favorite food.

**_The End_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alternate universe


	16. Past

Tony stood quietly as he stared at the fresh grave, as if looking at it would give him all the answers he'd been looking for. He was the last one to leave, out of the few who did come. It had been more than a little shocking to receive the call and realize in what way Gibbs had still managed to tie him up to himself, even through the grave, the old bastard. Didn't matter, it was the end either way, so Tony had arranged the funeral; a nice one, because that's the type of person he was, even now. If Gibbs had a problem with that, well... That was too bad.

It was somewhat surprising, first with the work and then with all the enemies Gibbs had, that the end was so calm and peaceful. You would also think that for someone who had been so decorated throughout his career, that there would've been people coming in through windows and doors to see the final sendoff. Or at least some flowers sent for the grave or something. Gibbs had chased everyone away. Ducky would've probably been there no matter what, but his time had come too, many years ago now...

It was a mystery to him what had happened between Gibbs and Abby, but then, she wasn't talking to anyone from the old days. If there was any of the old Abby left, she would probably soon be full of remorse and regret. Possibly even anger that he hadn't waited for her, for however long that would've taken. Tony hoped to be far away by the time that happened.

McGee... Well, he still wasn't ready to go there and hadn't bothered to go beyond the _'by the way, Gibbs is dead'_ type of announcement through email. That wound was still slightly sore and the two of them couldn't be walking on more different roads if they tried. McGee truly had showed what a great mini Vance he was, with a mix of something that was all his. What a mess of a life it all was. The only comfort was knowing that at least he wasn't sitting on that Director's seat. Not to say the new Director was doing a much better job either. Tony was just glad he'd walked away in time, which really was saying something.

The few others, like Fornell, were also either long dead or had scattered around, leaving the past behind.

At the sound of the last car driving away, Tony glanced over his shoulder for a moment. This was even worse than his father's funeral had been, a few years ago. At least with Senior, there had still been some relatives to show up, who held on to that last piece of hope that the man had some hidden treasures somewhere, which they would try and fight over. Tony, the son, knew better of course and let them have their fun while he buried his father in silence as his relatives mocked him for not grieving. And now here he was again, more or less.

"You really had to live up to your name to the very end, didn't you?" Tony sighed and looked up to the heavens as if hoping for a sign of some kind. To the outsider he would've looked like one who mourned the loss of someone very dear. He wasn't cold about all of this per se; he'd just done his mourning years ago, after leaving his old life behind. He didn't try to reconnect with it, with Gibbs, but neither did Gibbs try to seek him out. And now he would never know whether it was because his former boss was a stubborn old fool to the very end, full of pride, or if that's simply how little the man thought of his former SFA. Tony couldn't even begin to guess.

"Well. This is it, boss. It was a wild ride and I think that despite everything, we did have our moments. Even you did." Tony smiled wryly. "They could've become something more if you'd allowed, but regrets can't change the past. I wonder if you even had any regrets, real regrets." He pursed his lips as he wondered about the mess he'd found in the old house, which he now had to figure out what to do with. "I bet you did, didn't you? I'm surprised it wasn't the alcohol that did it. The boat was beautiful by the way. I hope you like being buried in it." Parts of it anyway. "I almost burned the whole thing in your honor."

Tony gave the grave one last glance before nodding and walking away. One day it would be his time to step over to the other side, but if Gibbs had taught him anything at all, it was to not live by his example, which he hadn't. He now had a good job, great friends, amazing wife and even children. For a moment Tony felt anguish at the thought of what could've been if things had been different with Gibbs and how he would've enjoyed sharing his joy with the man he used to look up to so much. He pushed that feeling away. Past couldn't be changed, but the future was still wide open.

**_The End_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Post-series  
> Tragedy


	17. Quarrion

Tony stared at her with some trepidation, because this was outside the norm even for him. Sure, he liked chicks, but this was... "Boss, why me?"

Fancy stared hard at the agents until they stopped trying to get to her; only then did she relax back against Tony.

Gibbs eyed his agents silently for a while; McGee with a few bitemarks from when he tried to reach his hand toward Fancy and even Ziva looked frazzled. Gibbs hadn't bothered beyond giving them the order to get her, but only because he'd already received his share of the evil eye and wasn't about to give everyone the joy of seeing him being beaten by such a small little thing. They could probably call someone to deal with this, but they didn't have a choice since Fancy was their only witness. More or less. "She likes you, that's why."

Truly, Tony indeed was the only one who had escaped this whole thing unscathed. Tony looked at Fancy again, who was happily not going anywhere anytime soon. "But I don't know anything about... Boss, what if I kill her?"

"Then don't. You'll be fine."

Tony turned to look at his other two teammates. Ziva gave him her evil eye as a warning to not even say it, while McGee held up his hand, to show the little wounds. "Come on, guys. I can't take her in my apartment."

"It's just a little bird, Tony," Ziva mocked as if she hadn't been nearly mauled by said bird only a moment ago.

McGee was nodding his head in agreement. "Besides, she does like you, oddly enough." As long as he didn't have to take the bird.

Tony did cheer up at that. "Well, girls like me. I guess she's kind of cute." He looked at Fancy sitting on his shoulder, with a calculating look. Maybe this could work. Babies and cute pets often worked on some women. Why not a cute little bird? He flinched at the sudden head slap, which then was followed by the surprised yelp of... Gibbs.

Holding his hand, Gibbs glared at Fancy who returned the filthy look. Seeing how this could turn ugly, Tony turned so that Gibbs couldn't see her. "She's just a bird, boss. Our important only witness," he said with eyes wide and innocent.

**_The End_ **


	18. Restraint

At first Gibbs thought it was a joke and it certainly would fit in with rest of the pranks. He even smiled at how clever it was. Even on leave, DiNozzo managed to do it. Then he later looked at it closer and not only did the piece of paper look strangely official, but after making a few phone calls, he found out that this was no joke and was very real. It _was_ a restraining order. From DiNozzo.

No restraining order could restrain him, which was why it didn't take long for Gibbs to make his way to DiNozzo's. When unimpressed Tony finally opened his door, Gibbs pushed the paper to his face. "Explain!"

"It's a restraining order. Didn't you read it?"

"I know what it is, but I want to know why!"

"Well, you see, I met this lovely woman. You'd like her; she's a lawyer. When she found out what my work environment is like, she was adamant that for my own sake I had to either ask for a transfer or resign. I'm transferring by the way. Vance is scared of her and offered me a nice promotion elsewhere. She also wanted to make sure you'll be kept away from me during my healing period, as she calls it. She has these strange ideas of how I'd fall back under your mind control if there was no proper time spent away from you." Tony rolled his eyes. "I'm not saying I believe all that, but I love her and I know I have my own quirks she has to live with. Besides, she's been trying to get me to go through some brain scans at her friend's hospital or something if I stayed near you since she's worrying about all those head slaps. I'd rather not."

"Mind control? Sounds more like _she's_ brainwashed you."

Tony looked dreamy. "Might be. Sure feels great though."

"You're not going anywhere," Gibbs said suddenly when that part of the news finally registered. "And this," he held up the paper, "means nothing. You and I both know how much these are worth."

"Go home, Gibbs. I promise we'll talk in a year or so, because that's how long it's going to take for now." Tony took the paper, carefully folded it and put it inside Gibbs' shirt pocket. "I would much rather not have to bother the police at this time of the night when I'm sure there are far more serious things they could deal with."

Gibbs scoffed. "You don't have it in you, DiNozzo."

Tony didn't say anything. He smiled instead.

An hour later found a fuming Gibbs sitting in the back seat of a police car.

**_The End_ **


	19. Silence

No one could explain what was wrong with him. Neither he nor anyone with a degree. He just... was. Whatever it was that he was.

Since that day he never spoke again. Perhaps something clicked in his brains or something simply broke in him, which was incurable for reasons unknown. Something shattered and he simply didn't speak anymore. It's funny just how damaging cruel words could be. You never quite understand it until you face the truth of it. But even now Tony had a hard time understanding what it was about those words specifically, which hit him so hard and deep. It's not like he was a stranger to cruel words; many of those coming from people closest to him.

It took going through the harsh, cold or overly affectionate close studying of several different doctors and shrinks alike, until they finally stopped blaming and accusing him of faking it. 'They' being Gibbs and rest of his ilk who didn't seem to be able to believe he wasn't making it all up.

Deep down Tony wasn't entirely sure himself whether he was indeed simply 'faking it'. Unknowingly perhaps. Maybe if he tried hard enough, he could talk again?

"I don't know," he could hear himself saying it so clearly, but seeing the now usual blank looks facing him, Tony knew he had spoken only in his own head, not aloud. Unless... This was all a big joke. The biggest and one of the cruelest pranks they were playing on him. Meaning he did speak, could speak, but they were pretending to be deaf and making him think he was slowly losing his mind; laughing behind his back every time he turned away.

"Why would you do that?" he had to ask, but although he was sure he could hear his own voice, it was still only in his own head. Just like how he was sure he was moving his mouth according to the words that were spoken, but apparently even that was only in his own head.

"What's wrong with me?" he despaired.

Silence was his only answer in these days and he could almost swear he was slowly losing his hearing too.

**_The End_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This and the next story are something I wrote way more than a year ago and you might have seen me kind of hurrying forward with this collection, which is so that I could finally get them out there for all to see before I lose them or something, which wouldn't be the first time that kind of thing happens to me...


	20. Time

Time is a curious thing. When I was young, it seemed like I had forever if something didn't kill me first. Days were long and years even longer. Childhood summers felt endless; especially when stuck on some mundane camp meant to torture me. Now that I am older, I see it for what it really is. I see what the kids never would, although they may think they do.

Time is a fleeting thing. It was here yesterday and it will be gone tomorrow. It's never really here. It slips through my fingers and all too soon I find myself left behind wondering how did I end up here.

_"Yes, Gibbs."_

_"Of course, Gibbs."_

_"On it, Gibbs."_

_"No, Gibbs."_

_"Right away, Gibbs."_

Gibbs, Gibbs, Gibbs... Not even boss anymore, but I can't tell if the old bastard even notices it. He hasn't really been a boss in my eyes for years now and especially not after my bully of a shrink made me read all those ridiculous books, which just for the information are still ridiculous and probably written by some well meaning dude or dudette with a doctor in front of their name, who has no real understanding of the real world.

Personally I don't think there's any doctor, or a pill, that could fix the disease that is Gibbs, but I have to admit that those books did make me read through a whole bunch of things about workplace bullying, the difference between a boss and a leader. My favorite part is probably the thing about power hungry alpha male wannabes who play high and mighty, but who in reality are better when they have someone leading them and not them leading anyone. I'm paraphrasing, but the fact is that the man is blind leading the blind.

Something is itching at the corners of my hearing and I'm aware once again of the raised voice. I'm not even sure if it's me that's his target again, or if it's someone else for a change.

Sometimes I wonder if the _boss_ is aware at all how much time he's wasting with all that growling. His and mine. Sometimes I feel like punching back with a ' _I'm already working on this and the million other things I know you're going to soon start whining about_ '. Maybe, just maybe you could let me do my job and you could do yours. For a change. That'd be nice. And do you want the work to be done properly and thoroughly or do you want the work to be done half-assed? I know, I know. You want it to be done last year and have it be the best possible work. Despite the fact that it's beyond any realm of possibility. You could show how it's done? Maybe the rest of us humble mortals can then learn from your great example.

I've long stopped waiting for that 'good work', which is never going to come. It's not happening and if it does, I know he either wants something from me or he'll turn it into a weapon. Or then it's given to someone else instead. Well, I've got news for ya, _pal_. I'm past caring. Getting too old for those kind of mind games. You could try it maybe. Growing up that is.

The mental image of a toddler Gibbs, with the head of grown up Gibbs, makes me chuckle to myself. I know it was quiet and barely a breath and not even any real sound, but of course there's the man again who wastes all his time by spying on his underlings. He really needs a hobby, and one that's not building a boat. Maybe start painting. Like those pretty flowers his shrink tried to get him to paint the other day.

"DiNozzo! Stop daydreaming and get me something!"

I stop my typing and look up from the screen that, if he'd bother to look, clearly had the evidence of work being done. What happened to his infamous and not that sneaky sneaking around anyway? When he should do it, he doesn't. He always chooses the worst moments, like he's waiting for them around the corner or something.

"Yes, Gibbs," I answer with a smile so fake it makes the Kardashians look natural.

Gibbs is glaring again. There's that deep furrow between his brows that I'm pretty sure I could put my finger in. Really, had no one told the man that too much frowning and glaring can't be good? It doesn't look pretty either. Would it cost him to stop staring at me? I'm working. See? I can multitask. I can think how to best avenge my honor and work at the same time. Something involving coffee I think.

"DiNozzo!"

"Almost, Gibbs. Almost," I answer sweetly. If words could do it, I'd probably be by now on my way to the dentist with rotten teeth. I've been using that tone of voice all too often lately. Either that or the one without emotion, which I'm not sure if it irritates the beloved bossman or if he likes it. I can't really read him that well in these days, if at all. He's become even more bipolar lately. I usually end up with the worst end of it.

I remember the already signed and sealed letters in my drawer and I hold it in just a little more. Two more weeks and then he'll only see my derriere, if he's lucky enough to catch me leaving. And let him rage and huff and puff. This tower of cards is going to stand tall and strong. I used superglue this time and the cards are made of steel.

What didn't kill me, didn't make me stronger. It kept weakening me and my foundations. Crack after crack until I crumbled down and the remains of me were burned, leaving nothing but ashes behind. I had to have some help, because I no longer could even stand up on my own, but somehow I rebuilt myself again, ten times stronger than before. And now there's walls around me made of something stronger than steel and higher than my tower of cards.

I'm not cracking again. Go on and try. I've got time now, but Gibbs... You're losing it. You're burning it and the sad thing is, you can't even see it.

_**The End** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't be sure, but I think it's possible this and "Silence" were written sometime after Tony/MW left the show, which I guess explains a few things, lol.


End file.
